


Toxic

by ladyreapermc



Series: Keanu ficfest! [16]
Category: Constantine (2005)
Genre: Choking, Dirty Talk, F/M, Infidelity, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22273918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyreapermc/pseuds/ladyreapermc
Summary: You're about to get married when you get a visit from Constantine
Relationships: John Constantine/You
Series: Keanu ficfest! [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1438567
Kudos: 29





	Toxic

**Author's Note:**

> requested on tumblr based on the prompt: 'No one's ever going to fuck you like i can".

You took a deep breath as you sat in front of the vanity mirror. Your hair was done, your makeup was done. You even put on the jewelry you picked for today and your shoes. All that was left was the dress that waited for you hanging on the closet of your hotel room.

You knew if you didn’t leave soon, you’d be dangerously close to being beyond fashionably late, but every time you tried to take a step towards it, you froze, almost as if your body was resisting getting closer. Like it knew that the second you put on the dress, that was it. No turning back. You were a bride on your wedding day and for some reason that was terrifying you.

And it wasn’t just cold feet either, it was a full-blown terror. The kind you never faced before. Not once in the years hunting and deporting half-breeds back to hell.

Maybe that was the point in the end? Supernatural was something you knew from an early age. It was as natural as breathing. But this? Getting married in a church in front of friends and family? This was so mundane your brain just couldn’t wrap itself around it and it was setting off all the warning bells.

So here you were, all by yourself, on your white corset, garter belt, and stockings, sitting at the vanity table, unable to actually finish getting ready.

Your phone vibrated on the table and you reached for it. It was a text message from your maid of honor. The limo arrived to take you to church.

You unlocked the screen to answer it, but it was like your hand had a will of its own because instead, you opened your contact list thumb hovering over Constantine’s name.

“So, it’s true, then?” you jumped at the sound of his voice, dropping your phone. “You really are getting married.”

You met his gaze through the mirror with wide eyes because John stood behind you, in his familiar attire of black suit, white shirt, loose tie, and his usual messy hair.

“How did you…?” you cut yourself off because that was a stupid question. This was Constantine. He could get anywhere if he tried hard enough.

“What are you doing here, John?”

“Came to offer my good wishes.” He smirked at you. “Since my invitation seemed to have gotten lost in the mail.”

“John…” you sighed, dropping your gaze, unable to face those intense brown eyes. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you,” he declared, making your head snap up again and when did he get so close?

Because John was now standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat emanating from his body.

“Come on, love. Do you really think you’re gonna be happy with a white picket fence? 2.5 kids? The whole nine yards?” He snorted and shook his head. “You weren’t built for that. We weren’t.”

“He makes me happy,” you said, looking down at your lap, at the engagement ring on your hand. “I want that.”

“Maybe. But do you trust him?” John asked, his hand running up your arm, making you shiver. “Did you tell him about this?”

He touched the tattoo below your collarbone. The seal of protection against possession.

“Or about this?”

John’s hand moved lower, to the side of your torso where a long scar crossed down to your hip from that time a half-breed threw you through a window and you were nearly impaled by a piece of glass.

“He doesn’t know you, love,” he said, lips brushing against your cheek.

His hand came up your neck, long fingers wrapping around your throat and your breath hitched as John forced your head back and caught your mouth in a messy kiss. You nearly whined at the familiar taste of nicotine and whiskey.

And how was it possible that a simple kiss would set you on fire like this? It was something that only John was able to do to you.

John tugged at your neck gently and you got up on your feet for him. He kicked the chair aside, pressing his body against your back, nuzzling your temple in such a gentle way that you barely recognized as John.

You two never did gentle. It was hard and fast and desperate, coming down from the adrenaline and needing proof of being alive.

His hand moved down your body, touching and exploring any inch of bare skin and you let yourself rest against his chest, head leaning against his shoulder. You realized all the fear and panic and dread had bled away from you the second he touched you.

“He’s never gonna know you as I do,” he said against your ear as he pulled your breasts free from your corset, teasing your nipples and making you groan.

“Does he know how much you like to be choked?” John asked, tightening his hand just a little and you gasped, wetness spreading through your panties.

“Or how you like to have something in your mouth when we’re fucking?”

He let go of your neck long enough to push two fingers past your lips and you swirled your tongue around them, sighing in content as you pressed your ass back against the bulge in his pants. John’s free hand moved away from your breasts, circling your clit through the lace and your head felt dizzy with pleasure.

“Look at yourself, love,” John ordered, and you blinked your eyes open – you didn’t even notice closing them – to see the striking image the two of you made. “Does he know what a little slut you are? Does he make you this wet and so needy to be fucked?”

He punctuated his words by dipping his hand into your panties, fingers sliding easily over your folds, before they pushed into you, making you gasp and rock your hips against his hand, moaning low in your throat.

John pressed an open-mouth kiss against your cheek, before pulling his hands away from you and you whimpered at the loss until he spun you around and kissed you, pushing you backward until your lower back hit the vanity table. You took a seat, back pressed against the mirror as he pulled your thighs open so he could stand between them.

You undid his belt and pants, pulling them down while John all but ripped the frail fabric of your lingerie off you and met your eyes. You could see the burning need in his gaze, the desperation, but also the affection and longing and it wrecked your heart.

You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tilted your hips up so John could push inside you, making both of you groan in pleasure.

Panting, he rested his forehead against yours, letting you adjust to the intrusion, for only a moment, before he started to thrust into you, hard and fast just as you liked it, making you cry out and dig your nails on his nape, rolling your hips to meet him.

Burning pleasure built inside you as you kissed and nipped at John’s neck and jaw, smearing your lipstick all over his skin, dragging out short little grunts and growls out of him.

“No one’s ever going to fuck you like I can,” he panted against your shoulder.

“I know.” Your reply came as a gasp as John brought a hand between your bodies to circle your clit again. “But you can’t give me what I want, John.”

“What if I can?” he asked, pausing and meeting your gaze.

You stayed locked together like that, just staring into each other’s eyes for a long moment, before you nodded and he grinned, speeding up his thrusts, thumb working magic against your clit until you were reduced to meowing mess, crying out his name as you came, your walls contracting around his cock and making him come too, the words spilling out of his lips almost like a prayer.

You hugged him close as both of you recovered your breath, your legs were shaking from the awkward position and there was something digging against your lower back, but you didn’t care. Your smile was wide and happy and sated as you combed the soft hairs on his nape.

“I love you too, John.”


End file.
